


Let's Get Dirty

by ad_asterism



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Based on a True Story, Bears, Canada, Drinking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Marijuana, Maybe - Freeform, Mutual Pining, Partying, Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Self-Indulgent, Tree Planters AU, Underage Drinking, Wilderness, and they're going treeplanting for the summer, background shallura - Freeform, it's funny because they're planting pine trees, klance, like everything i write, literally i dont even know how to tag this shit, they're all canadian, treeplanting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-04 22:47:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12781254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ad_asterism/pseuds/ad_asterism
Summary: Keith's cousin, Shiro, has spent the last six summers planting trees in the Canadian wilderness. This year, he's finally convinced Keith to give it a try, so Keith heads to Northern Ontario to plant some forests and make some money- and maybe he could even make some friends, if he wasn't assigned to plant with someone who seems to have a ridiculous vendetta against him.Lance's best friends, Hunk and Pidge, are both going north to try treeplanting- and there is no way they are leaving Lance behind for the entire summer. It's fine. He's gonna do amazing. Becoming the best planter in camp would be easier, though, if it weren't for his mullet-headed planting partner getting in his way all the time.These idiot boys will have to spend the next two months fighting bears, bugs, perma-dirt, snow, sleet, swamps... and their own ridiculous attraction to each other, if they want to make it through the season.





	Let's Get Dirty

**Author's Note:**

> Hoo boy, friends.
> 
> I started this on the 18-hour drive to my planting season, back in April. I rediscovered it in my google docs while I was looking for something else, so I thought I'd let it see the light of day, even though this is truly the most self indulgent thing I have ever written, ever. Yes, they are all Canadian in this fic. Yes, this is the weirdest premise ever.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Hey, Pidge….. is that really snow on the ground?”

“What?” Pidge glanced back from the front seat of the Jeep.

“It’s snowing!” Lance peeled himself away from the window, where he’d left foggy hand- and face-smears. “Why is it snowing? It’s May!”

In the driver’s seat, Pidge’s brother Matt laughed. “Welcome to Northern Ontario, bud. Winter’s not over up here.”

“Piiiiiidge,” he whined. “You didn’t tell me it was gonna be cold! You know what that does to my skin!”

Pidge tapped impatiently at her tablet. “Dude, you knew we were going six hours north of Thunder Bay. What, did you think it was going to be sunshine and beaches all the way?”

They’d been driving north for more than fourteen hours already, only stopping to pee and pick up more snacks from a variety of increasingly sketchy gas stations. (They’d also stopped to take selfies with the giant nickel in Sudbury and the giant goose statues in Wawa. Apparently the North had a real thing for building giant statues in their downtowns. Lance didn’t get it, but he’d snapchatted some FANTASTIC goose impressions.) He’d known it was going to be cold at the start of the season, but—snow? It hit him suddenly that he didn’t really know what he was getting himself into. He turned back to the window, squinting into the bright morning sunshine. Thick pine forests flashed past his window, looking exactly the same as they had for the last twelve hours.

It kind of blew Lance’s mind just how big Canada was. He wasn’t exactly a stranger to big places- he’d learned to navigate Toronto’s subway system on his own at the age of twelve, and was perfectly capable of threading his way through the maze of concrete and reflective glass towers. But then, Lance had always been a city kid. He’d thought a “long drive” was going two hours north into the Toronto suburbs. And, yeah, the city was big- but this was just ridiculous. They’d just been driving and driving and driving, and it was all the same- trees and rocks and swamps, and rocks, and more trees, and not a streetlamp or a Starbucks in sight. 

He tapped his fingers nervously against the glass.

It had been Pidge’s idea for the three of them to go treeplanting this summer. Her brother, Matt, had been doing it every summer for the last few years, and Pidge said that he’d made tons of money. Hunk had been really into the idea, and had done a ton of research into the kind of stuff they’d need and the fitness training they’d need to do. They hadn’t even really needed to try that hard to get the jobs- Matt had put in a good word with the company he worked for, Altea Reforestation, and they were in.  
Lance was really just along for the ride. He wasn’t about to let Hunk and Pidge go off for the summer without him- they’d always done everything together. Summer camp, high school, Garrison U, they were a trio, they were the three musketeers, and so if Hunk and Pidge were going, then Lance was going too. The money was just a bonus, as far as he was concerned, and a good way to keep his mama from nagging him about finding a summer job.

He hadn’t really thought much about the job itself— anything they could do, he could totally do too. No problem. But at the planting camp, they were going to have to live in tents, right? Was that even possible with this much snow? Did people go camping in snow??? Was that even a thing???

Hunk interrupted his thoughts by leaning over and punching him lightly on the arm. “Dude, it’ll be fine. It’s just a little cold.”

Lance forced a smile. “Easy for you to say, big guy. You’re all insulated for that. Poor scrawny me will  
freeze right up!”

Hunk laughed, and Lance felt a little lighter. Still- they hadn’t even gotten there yet, and there was something he hadn’t expected. What if everything about the job was this unexpected? What if he wasn’t really ready for any of it?

Outside of his window, the trees suddenly thinned. The Jeep turned a corner, and a motel appeared to the left, followed by a derelict auto body lot, a cluster of shops, and a sign proclaiming VERN’S MINNOWS AND GIFTS. It looked exactly like the previous dozen or so tiny towns that they’d passed through.

“Please tell me we’re there,” said Hunk.

Pidge sighed. “Hunk, you’ve said that every time we’ve seen a town,” they pointed out.

“Actually, I think we are there,” said Matt.

Lance perked up. “Really?”

Hunk slumped back into his seat, clutching his stomach. “Finally. I thought it would never end.”

Matt turned into a muddy dirt parking lot, crisscrossed with slush and tire ruts. On one side, there was a weathered wooden building with antlers nailed over the door, the words, and a flashing OPEN sign. On the other, there was a gas station, and what looked like a house with a small sign out front. There didn’t seem to be anyone there. Matt parked at the far edge of the lot.

“This is it? The camp?” said Lance.

“Nah, this is just the Greyhound station,” said Matt. “This is where they’re picking everyone up. We have to meet the buses here, and they’ll lead us up to the actual camp.”

“Great.” Hunk put a big hand over his face. “More driving.”

“Looks like we’re early, though,” said Pidge. “So I guess we can stretch our legs til somebody actually shows up.”

“Thank fuck,” said Lance.

Five minutes later, all four of them were wandering around in Vern’s Minnows. The place was one big, unfinished wooden room, stuffed with racks of processed food, several large freezers, and shelves of locally made jerky. The walls were covered in taxidermied animals, which made Pidge shudder. Hunk made a beeline for the back, and started resupplying his snack stash. Pidge went for the freezers. Lance wandered down an aisle at random, and started flipping through a rack of tourist t-shirts. They were unbelievably tacky, with huge pictures of wolves and bears and eagles over superimposed over things like dream catchers and the Northern Lights. He pulled out two.

“Pidge!” he called.

“What?”

“Pidgey-o, I can’t decide which of these amazing wolf shirts will look cooler in the bush. What do you think?”

Pidge emerged from the next aisle over holding a tub of ice cream and gave him a once-over. “They’re both stupid.”

Lance pouted. “You just have no sense of fashion. It’s ironic, Pidge, it’s cool!”

“You wouldn’t know cool if it dropkicked you over a cliff, Lance.”

“I’m wounded. How could you even say that to this beautiful wolf’s face, hunh, Pidge?” He waved the shirt dramatically, knocking over a stand of camouflage-patterned hats and vests. Hunk, coming up behind them, juggled the snacks in his arms and caught it neatly.

“Case in point.” Pidge turned to Hunk. “Did you see where Matt went?”

“I think he was headed outside,” Hunk replied. “Something about saying hello to last year’s planters.”

He and Pidge headed for the back of the store, while Lance waved the two shirts at them. “Hey! Guys!”

“They’ll both look great on you, buddy,” Hunk called over his shoulder. Pidge elbowed him. Lance looked between the two shirts and sighed. If he was going to be in the woods for the next three months, at least he could do it in style.

* * *

Keith had barely gotten off the bus, and he was already regretting all his life decisions.

He’d spent the last eighteen hours stuffed into the back seat of the Greyhound, dozing and watching Netflix and ignoring everyone else. His legs were stiff, his back was sore, and he was so ready to just turn around and go home. He probably would’ve, too, if it weren’t for his older cousin.

It had been Shiro who convinced him to come planting in the first place. He’d been telling Keith for years that he ought to come out, but somehow it had never happened—Keith’d had other summer plans; a job, an apartment for the summer, a boyfriend he wasn’t willing to leave. But after this year….well, let’s just say he didn’t have any of those things any more.

He wished that Shiro had been with him for the drive up. Shiro was the one who was good with people. He would’ve spent the whole time chatting people up and making new friends, instead of hiding at the back like a loser. Too bad for Keith, Shiro was one of the staff on the contract, a crew boss. He’d been up north with Allura and Coran for a week already, setting up camp and prepping for the season.

“You can totally do this on your own,” he’d told Keith over Skype. “It’s just a bus ride. You’ll be fine. Make some friends!”

Well, Keith had already failed at that. No surprise there. He was excited to see Shiro, though—they hadn’t seen each other since they’d backpacked around Europe together. And even having one person there that he knew… that made a huge difference. All the difference in the world, for Keith.

The bus had spat him off into what looked like the middle of nowhere—a slushy dirt parking lot, with nothing around but a handful of buildings and more trees. Still, the air was cooler than it had been in the south, and it smelled fresh and sweet after so long breathing the too-filtered air in the bus. Keith drew in a huge breath, and let it all out at once, trying to stay positive. He looked around.

Most of the other people who’d gotten off the bus here had dragged all their stuff over to the covered porch of the gift shop, to join some more youngish-looking people who must have driven up in their own cars. Some of them seemed to know each other. They were talking and hugging and sharing smokes. Those ones looked like planters, Keith thought- there was something indefinable about them, a kind of gritty, don’t-give-a-fuck attitude. Or maybe they were just dirty. He wasn’t sure.

There were also a lot of people that were clearly new. They looked nervous, and cleaner than the others, and were clustering together in groups. Some of them even had rolling suitcases, which seemed impractical to him. Keith didn’t really want to join either group, but at the same time, he couldn’t just keep standing here alone in the middle of the parking lot. It doesn’t matter what they think, he reminded himself. You have Shiro. You don’t need these people to like you.

He picked up his pack and made his way over to the porch, dumping his stuff next to a bright green Jeep. He checked his phone, trying to avoid talking to anyone. Nothing from Shiro, but that was no surprise. He’d told him there was no service out where the camp was, so he probably hadn’t gotten any of Keith’s messages.  
Keith sat down on the porch steps, looking out over the parking lot. Come on, Keith, he told himself. Talk to someone. Anyone. It’s going to be a long season if you don’t make any friends.

He steeled himself, sliding his phone back into his pocket. Talking to people. Yup, he could do that. Definitely. He stood up, and was almost knocked down the porch steps by someone crashing into his back.

“Fuck!”

Keith windmilled his arms. A slim hand closed around his wrist, pulling him back from the edge.

“What the fuck, dude?” As soon as he was steady again, Keith whirled around, only to be met by a pair of wide blue eyes in a tanned, angular face. They narrowed defensively.

“Me? What? Why were you in the way?”

“In the way? I was minding my own business! Why didn’t you watch where you were going?” Keith realized that the other boy’s hand was still clutching his wrist. He yanked his arm away, feeling heat rise in his face.

“Lance, are you irritating other people before we’ve had a chance to meet them?” The voice came from a tiny person who’d appeared at Keith’s elbow, seemingly out of nowhere. She had short brown hair, and huge round glasses, and was frowning up at Lance, giving him an unreadable look.

“This guy just stood up straight into me! He spilled my coffee!” The stranger—Lance, was it?—leaned forward to poke Keith in the chest, gesturing irritably with his coffee cup.  
Keith was suddenly aware of how close he was standing. He wanted to take a step back, but they were still right at the edge of the porch. Luckily, the tiny girl took Lance’s elbow and pulled him away from Keith, seeming to have a better grasp on the concept of personal space.

“Sorry about my friend,” she said to Keith. “We still haven’t gotten him housebroken.”

“Hey!” Lance pouted.

“You a planter?” she continued, ignoring him.

“Uh, yeah,” said Keith, a little lost. “You too, I guess?”

“Yup! Me and this idiot both.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Katie. My friends call me Pidge. And you’ve already met Lance.”

“Pidge?” He took her hand, and shook it warily.

“It’s a long story.”

“I’m Keith.”

“Nice to meet you, Keith.” Lance was trying unsuccessfully to extract himself from Pidge’s grip. “So do you-“

She was interrupted by a cheer that went up from the planters in the parking lot. Keith was somewhat relieved (and somewhat confused) to see a pair of school buses rumble around the corner. They were painted bright blue, and had the words ALTEA REFORESTATION stenciled along the sides.

Without a word, the three of them scrambled down the steps. The older planters were gathering around the buses to say hello, while the new people were clearly hanging back, unsure what to do. The buses pulled up by the Greyhound station, and two people got off; Shiro, his shock of white hair instantly recognizable, and an older man with a handlebar moustache, who Keith knew from his stories must be Coran.

By the time Keith made it across the parking lot, Shiro was already being greeted by a guy who looked like an older version of Pidge. Shiro looked up from their conversation as Keith approached, face lighting up.

“Keith! You made it!” He hugged him with one arm, and ruffled his hair.

“Of course. Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“Well, you never know. I thought you might have thrown yourself out of the bus by hour six.” Shiro raised an eyebrow, knowing full well how much Keith hated crowded spaces. 

Keith only shrugged.

“Oh!” said Shiro. “This is Matt. Matt, this is my little cousin. It’s his first season.”

“Greener cousin, eh?” Matt smiled and shook Keith’s hand, looking exactly like Pidge. “My sister’s here somewhere,” he told Shiro. “It’s her greener year too.”

“What’s a greener?” asked Keith.

“Oh, it’s just what we call rookies,” explained Shiro. “You’re one, until you either figure out the ropes or quit. We tend to lose a lot of greeners in the first couple weeks.”

When everyone had been introduced, they started getting the buses loaded. Shiro had a list of the people they were supposed to be picking up, and checked off names as people loaded their gear into the back. The experienced planters laughed and joked as they loaded up, as though they were headed off for summer camp. It was weird, Keith thought. This was just a job. Right? 

Keith found an empty seat and settled down by the window. Glancing out, he saw that Matt and Shiro had been joined by Pidge, Lance, and a broad-shouldered guy wearing a yellow knit sweater. They were gathered into a loose circle, all laughing at something. Keith was struck by a sudden pang through the chest. Why was he here, on this bus, alone, instead of hanging out with his cousin, instead of being in on the joke? Why was he so bad at this?

So much for making friends, he thought. He rested his head against the sticky leather of the bus seat.

It was going to be a long two months.

 

***

Lance was nervous.

He had always been a great improviser. As long as he could make a plan of action, work with the situation, play it cool, he usually did fine. Usually, though, he was in control of the situation- and this particular situation was brand new, completely strange, completely out of his comfort zone. That was probably why he’d blown up at that guy, who honestly, hadn’t really deserved it. Lance was usually way better than that at handling social situations, way smoother with new people. Especially cute ones.

If he was being completely honest, he was on edge today—and his first sight of the planting camp hadn’t made him any less nervous. He didn’t know what exactly he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this.

The buses had brought them an hour north of town, trailed by a line of five or six dusty personal cars. A good forty minutes of that had been on a sketchy logging road, Lance’s teeth rattling on the bumpy dirt and potholes. The forest had flashed by, trunks and rocks and swamps a dull brown colour, rock faces with sheets of ice melting in rivulets down the front, rocks shading the last patches of dirty snow. It was endless- the trees, the snow, the bumping of the old Jeep down the muddy roads. He couldn’t believe it. They were going to live here?

Just when Lance thought that he couldn’t stand it anymore, they’d turned off onto an even tinier road, which had opened out into the bush camp.

The camp was a clearing about a hundred feet square, mostly sandy with large grassy areas. Pine trees towered up on all sides. To the left, Lance thought he could see a lake through the trees, the one break in the endless forest. There were a collection of large canvas structures clustered on the right-hand side of the road, and a good-sized trailer which he assumed was the office. Bafflingly, the largest tent seemed to have a bus backed up to it. The bus had propane tanks strapped to the side, and a metal chimney coming out the top- maybe a kitchen? Across the clearing, there were three pickup trucks, several more blue buses, and what looked like a collection of outhouses….made of tarps?

Lance shuddered.

“Home sweet home,” said Matt, parking his car near the buses. His passengers piled out.

As the planters trickled off the buses, pulling their gear off the back, Coran clapped his hands.

“All right everyone! You have exactly an hour to choose your tent spots and get yourselves settled in! After that, we need everyone to meet up in the mess tent. See you all there!” Lance tried to figure out what his accent was. Australian? No, that wasn’t quite right. What was it? And what, for that matter, was he talking about?

He leaned over to Pidge, who was dragging a duffle bag bigger than herself out of the car. “What’s the mess tent?”

“I think it’s that big tent over there. It’s where we eat, I guess.” She scanned the treeline, frowning slightly. “So. Where do you guys wanna set up camp?”

 

***

From a distance, the mess tent had looked white. Up close, it was made of dirty canvas that filtered the spring sunlight into a dim orange glow. Bare bulbs hung from the ceiling on a network of extension cords, lighting up rows of plastic tables and chairs. A table pushed against the tent wall held a charging station with a row of walkie-talkies, and a bulletin board reading PLANTER SAFETY BOARD. 

Keith stopped to study this. It was covered in flyers and pamphlets; some with instructions on emergency procedures, some with images of bears and other hazards, and one with a disgustingly close-up picture of a tick. Someone had draped the whole thing in flashing Christmas lights, presumably in an effort to make it look cheery.

That’s reassuring, thought Keith. Not.

Wandering through the tent, he sat down as far as possible from the people who were already there. He eyed them warily, hoping no one tried to talk to him. Where was Shiro? He’d vanished pretty much as soon as Keith had gotten off the bus, before he’d even had a chance to ask where his tent was set up. Keith had ended up choosing a spot at random, as level as possible and on high ground. He’d seen some people set up down by the lake, which seemed dumb. Didn’t they know their tents would flood as soon as it started raining? Had these people never been camping before?

Keith kept his head down as the mess tent filled with people, their chatter twining around and past him. He didn’t try to join any of their conversations, watching the tables fill up from under his bangs.

He was surprised when a large someone sat down across from him, followed by Pidge and a sullen Lance, who hesitated, before pulling out the chair next to Keith.

“Hey there, neighbour!” The dark-skinned guy, who looked to be about Keith’s age, grinned.

“What?”

“We’re neighbours! You put your tent up near ours, didn’t you? The little red one?”

“Uhh…” Keith cast back to setting up, and pulled up a mental image of the huge blue tent he’d seen nearby. “Oh. I guess so, yeah?”

“Yeah! Lance and me share that big one, and Pidge’s is the little green one nearer you. I’m Hunk, by the way.”

“Keith.” He let his hand be shaken yet again, a little thrown off by all these wildly sociable people. The mess tent was filling up, he noticed—more people were sitting down at their table now, the volume rising.

“Keith,” said Pidge, leaning around Hunk, “did you know that your cousin is best friends with my brother?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Keith, “I guess so?”

“Why didn’t you mention that before? That makes us, like, friends by default.” Pidge had too much energy, Keith decided. She was probably one of those people who could stay up all night and still be chipper enough to run a marathon the next day.

“So where are you—” Hunk began, but he cut off suddenly as the room went quiet. Keith turned in his seat.

Standing at the front of the room was the most striking woman Keith had ever seen. She was about his height, wearing faded jeans, work boots, and a black T-shirt with the arms ripped off to reveal toned brown shoulders. Her pale hair was pulled up into a bun. It was white-blond, too pale, Keith thought, to be natural, but he couldn’t see any sign of dark roots. There was something in the way she stood that screamed “don’t fuck with me”. 

Based on everything he’d ever heard from Shiro, this must be the camp boss, Allura. He’d heard her described in enough loving detail that he could probably pick her out of a lineup by this point, although the real thing was much more intimidating than he’d imagined, her energy like a live wire filling up the room.

Keith liked her on sight. 

“Hey, everyone,” she said. “My name is Allura, and I’m the camp supervisor here. To everyone returning for another season- welcome back! It’s good to see you all. And for those of you who are new to us-” her eyes lingered on Keith, and he thought she was biting back a smile- “welcome as well!” She leaned back on the table at the front of the mess tent, taking in the assembled planters with a cool, assessing gaze. 

“You all know why you’re here, and I hope you will all become excellent planters in no time. We have just over a million trees to plant this year, unless we end up picking up another contract, so if all our greeners get up to speed in the first few shifts, our season should be finished by the beginning of July.” Allura continued talking, but Keith realized suddenly that something was shaking against his leg. He looked next to him. Lance was staring at Allura, a dreamy look on his face that made Keith want to puke. He looked relaxed, confident, like someone about to pull a terrible one-liner...but his leg was jiggling up and down nervously under the table. It was almost like he didn’t realize what he was doing. 

It was infuriating.

Keith kicked him. 

Lance jolted up, glaring at Keith. “What is your problem?” he hissed. 

“Stop kicking me,” said Keith. 

“You kicked me!”

“I’ll kick both your asses if you don’t shut up,” Pidge said under her breath. Lance glared daggers and Keith, and scooted his chair away, digging ruts in the dirt floor.

“Tomorrow will be our first day on the block, so you have the rest of this afternoon to get settled into camp life.” Allura clapped her hands. “Our very charming staff team here will be showing you around camp, and telling you a little about what you can expect here. They’ll also be the ones who will teaching you to plant tomorrow, and showing you the ropes. Shiro, would you like to start?”

Keith realized for the first time that the table closest to Allura was actually two tables pushed together, forming a larger work area. One by one, the people at that table stood up to introduce themselves. There was Shiro, of course, looking like a Dorito as usual. He introduced himself as the tree runner- the person who would be bringing the boxes of trees to the worksite on an ATV. Keith knew that Shiro hated running trees. He would much rather have still been planting, but his accident had made that impossible- you couldn’t pound in trees at any high speed with a prosthetic arm, no matter how ridiculously fit you were- but the money was good and he liked being in camp, so he ran trees instead. His prosthetic arm didn’t have any trouble hucking boxes. 

The crew bosses were next. They were the foremen, the ones who would be directly supervising small groups of planters. Keith had met Coran and Matt already, but he didn’t know the other four- a pair of beefy guys named Antok and Thace, a short, spectacled man called Slav, and a muscular girl who introduced herself as Shay.

“Shay is our first aid attendant,” said Allura, “so if you have any injuries or sicknesses while you’re working this season, Shay is the one you want to talk to.” 

After the crew bosses had sat down again, Allura pulled a walkie-talkie off her belt. “Now, Sal,” she said into it, and a huge noise like a foghorn ripped out of nowhere. Everyone  
at their table jumped, and a beefy man in a dirty apron walked in from the door that led to the kitchen bus.

“I’m Sal,” he said, “I’m the camp cook, and-”

“Vrepit Sal!” called a voice from the back, and a rowdy cheer went up. Sal glared. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he said. “I’m never gonna live that down, am I?” He sighed as another cheer of VREPIT SAAAAL went up. “I’m the camp cook. Breakfast is at six AM sharp. You hear the horn, it means dinner’s served.” 

Lance turned to Keith, raising an eyebrow and mouthing “vrepit sal?” Keith shrugged. He had no idea what it meant either. And why was Lance even talking to him? He didn’t even like him.

Sal glared around at all the planters. “I don’t want anyone on my bus, ever, you hear? Stay out of my kitchen. If I find out someone’s been coming in and stealing food again, you’ll all regret it. Capiche?”

There were some nods, but Keith would have sworn he heard someone mutter “vrepit sal” under their breath.

“Great,” said Allura. “Now, if you’ll follow Coran, he’ll give the new planters a quick tour of camp. Crew bosses, with me.” She turned on her heel, and ducked out the main door of the mess tent, followed by the other crew bosses.

As the others stood up to follow Coran, Keith wove his way between the tables and caught Shiro’s sleeve. His cousin turned. 

“So….” said Keith, smirking. “Allura, eh?”

Shiro turned red. “There’s nothing going on between me and Allura,” he said. 

Someone snorted behind him. “Yeah, right,” Matt said. “And Keith here is an alien.”

Shiro crossed his arms defensively. “There’s not,” he said. “We’re just…. We work together. She’s my boss. I could never think of her that way.”  
Matt rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, whatever you say, bud. But you and I both know there’s a reason for that old trope about camp bosses and their tree runners.” He winked at Keith in an exaggerated way. 

“Is that a thing?” Keith asked curiously.

“Oh yeah,” said Matt, at the same time as Shiro said “NO.” He covered his red face. 

“It’s okay, dude,” said Matt, patting the bigger man’s arm. “This will be your season. She’s into it. I promise you.”

“Let’s just go to the meeting already,” said Shiro, dragging Matt out the door.

Keith followed them out the door, jogging around the corner to catch up with the group of new planters being shown around. Coran was gesturing expansively towards the smaller canvas tents, explaining something about the shower setup.

At the back of the group, Lance was whispering something to Pidge and Hunk. The three of them cracked up, stifling their laughter in their hands, bending towards each other with the ease of familiarity. Keith stopped dead. 

Lance had the sleeves of his olive jacket drawn up over his hands to protect them from the cold. His sleeve- covered hands were pressed up against his mouth, cheeks red with laughter in the April air, breath huffing visibly out. His too-blue eyes were crinkled up, and his shoulders were shaking with mirth, and Keith was seized with the irrational urge to make him laugh like that.

He was…. adorable. That was the only word for it. 

Keith mentally smacked himself. He’s an asshole, remember! We don’t fall for attractive douchebags anymore! We’re done with that! He started moving again, and Lance looked up, making eye contact with him. The smile fell around the edges. Probably afraid of Keith coming and ruining the joke, he thought.

Keith abruptly switched directions, edging around the side of the group so that he had at least three people between him and Lance.  
It was better for him to just not talk to them. They didn’t even like him, after all- Lance had been nothing but openly hostile to him so far. Mostly. Except for that moment in the mess tent- but that didn’t count, not really. And if the others had been friendly, so what? They were just being nice. They were all so close already, they didn’t need him butting in. He obviously wasn’t welcome.

He was better off on his own. He had Shiro, if he needed company. Which he didn’t. He’d always been better off without relying on other people, without leaning on anyone. That was the whole reason he was here, right? Because he was tough, and reliable, and going to make tons of money. He didn’t need to get distracted by boys with nice dimples and pretty faces and funny friends- they’d only hurt him, and leave him, and that was the last thing he needed right now. 

Even if he did have a cute laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> -Vrepit Sal is a very old camp meme. the inside joke is so old that no one actually knows where it came from any more (except maybe Coran and Allura, but they're not telling)  
> -Lance is a Toronto private school bro. You know the kind I mean.  
> -Keith is from New Brunswick (New Brunswick is the Texas of Canada)  
> -Coran is that one crew boss who is like, way too old to still be planting but he's still here? How long has he been around? who knows.  
> -yes northern canada is really like that  
> -i had a really hard time deciding between shatt and shallura here because both are v good, but i also love the cliche of camp bosses being secretly with their tree runners  
> -yes that is a real thing
> 
> If you're really confused, here's a BBC reality show about why you should never go treeplanting: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QxR02N-Sauk
> 
> Please comment and let me know if you'd like to see more of this absolutely ridiculous planting AU! I live for your comments and I want to know if this makes a single lick of sense. I have a lot of plans for things that could go down here but basically it's just going to be a lot of shenanigans and a really slow burn, because that's what I live for.  
> Let me know your own headcanons or who you'd like to see show up here! I have only the loosest of plans for this fic.


End file.
